Page 54 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

“The fuck are you talking about? It was your idea.”

“No.” Ilyasov wags his finger. “I told you where Giorgio was hiding out. You’re the one who decided to break in on your own and kill him. It’s a suicide mission.”

I stare at my brother, blinking in disbelief. “You flew me here on a private jet to go on a suicide mission?”

“I flew you home,” he corrects. “What you choose to do now is your business.”

“Except it isn’t my business. It’s yours. You’re the one who wants Giorgio dead.”

“And you’re the one who agreed to the deal. That makes it your business.”

I hold out my hand. “Where’s the key for the car?”

Ilyasov hesitates, his lips twisting to one side. “I don’t want to part on poor terms, brother. It is not good luck.”

“We’re as good as we’ve ever been. Where are the keys?”

He digs into his pocket and tosses me the keys. “I know you think I’m a cold son of a bitch, but I do want to help you out.”

Fucking sure he does.

“I’ll pass.”

He purses his lips, thinking. “At least let me check in on your son for you. Let me take him and whoever the hell is watching him to a safehouse. They’ll be secure there. You won’t have to worry.”

My instinct is to dismiss the offer out of hand, but it’s actually not a bad idea. I’d be much more focused on my task if I knew for a fact Lukas was safe. Plus, if he’s at a Romanoff safehouse, I’ll at least get to hold him one last time—before I lose both him and his mother forever.

“Fine,” I grit. “Yeah, that makes sense. They’re holed up in a hotel somewhere, but a safehouse would be much more comfortable.”

“Great. Text me the address. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll let them know you’re coming,” I say as I’m pulling out my phone to text Ernestine the new plans.

Ilyasov throws a small black bag into his car and then turns around, arms folded over the top of the door. “Can I do anything for you? A different gun? More ammo?”

I shake my head. “I’m good. I have all I need.”

“So be it. A word of advice, brother: move slowly, pay attention, and don’t make any rash decisions. That’s how you end up dead.”

“Since when are you the worried big brother?” I ask with a bitter laugh.

“Since now, I suppose.” Ilyasov shrugs and shakes his head. “We share the same blood, do we not?”

I shrug. “Don’t go soft, Ilyasov. Love is a weapon, remember?”

“Father drilled it into our heads. How could I forget?”

Ilyasov gets into his car and I get into mine. We follow each other out of the airport.

Then, as we get onto the highway, he peels off, speeding away and disappearing into the road ahead.

And just like that, I’m alone again.

19

Arya

I almost call a cab, but when I realize how far I have to go, I realize renting a car is cheaper.

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